


Trust In Me

by turps



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-25
Updated: 2010-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/pseuds/turps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the porn battle. For the prompt, always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust In Me

Gerard's alone on the bus. It's what he wanted, time away from concerned glances and too-bright smiles, to be able to inhale without taking in someone else's breath.

Except, now that he is alone he doesn't want it at all.

Without buffers he can hear his own heart-beat. It thumps in his head -- fast, too fast -- a baseline to memories that won't quit. Gerard pulls up his legs, rests his head on his knees, presses his mouth against the denim of his jeans.

He needs to keep still, to keep breathing.

"Gee."

Gerard hadn't heard Mikey come back on the bus. There's the sound of footsteps, the seat dipping to one side, Mikey so close that they're touching. Gerard scrabbles for control, pushes back the panic before he looks up.

"I said I'd be okay alone."

"I know." Mikey's looking forward, eyes half-lidded and expression closed off. He turns then, the slightest amount, his knee against Gerard's thigh, says, "Don't."

"What?" Gerard asks, desperate, hoping he'll be given this out. He dredges up a smile, his face hurts at each side.

"Don't," Mikey says again, sharper this time. He reaches out, presses his fingertips against the corners of Gerard's mouth. "Don't hide."

The tips of Mikey's fingers are rough, his knuckles are reddened, the nail of his little finger is black. Gerard says, "I'm right here."

Mikey shakes his head, repeats, "Don't hide." He hesitates a moment, adds. "It's okay, I can take it."

And it's not like Gerard ever thought that he couldn't. It's just, Mikey's seen enough, the least Gerard can do is give him this break. Resisting the urge to let go, expose hurt and shame and fear and disgust, Gerard sinks into his act and looks directly at Mikey. "I'm...."

"Fuck that," Mikey hisses. He drops his hands and pulls back. "I want to see _you_ not fucking Gerard Way, front-man of My Chemical Romance."

Gerard could say they're the same person, but ultimately Mikey is asking, and Gerard always gives him what he wants.

It isn't easy letting go. Gerard swallows hard and traps his hands between his knees, looks down at the ground, dirty socks and a torn magazine, some mysterious stain that reaches from mid-floor to the door.

"Thank you." Mikey sounds relieved as he reaches out, hooking his fingers under Gerard's chin and gently pushes up, holding him still so they're face-to-face. Mikey's smiles slightly, the tension he's held in the slope of his shoulders visibly bleeding away. "I've missed you."

Gerard wants to say sorry, but Mikey's already moving, throwing himself at Gerard. As always Gerard meets him half way, catching Mikey, holding him safe.

"Nothing's changed," Mikey says, and then repeats, "Nothing's changed." Reassuring himself, Gerard, both, it doesn't matter. All that matters is the feel of Mikey's lips against Gerard's cheek, the briefest of kisses as he gets himself settled, movements awkward as he straddles Gerard's lap, weighing him down.

Gerard's missed this. Mikey's part of Gerard and he's been gone for too long, pushed aside by issues bigger than them both. Gerard tightens his hold, fingers digging into Mikey's hips. "Don't go."

"Not going to," Mikey says. He's pressing close, his belt buckle digging into the soft flesh of Gerard's belly, pushing until they slide to the side. Gerard's trapped but not, he knows if he wants he could easily break free -- he doesn't, just lies still and looks up. Mikey's hair is matted into greasy tufts, his glasses have slid to the end of his nose and acne has broken out on his chin.

Gerard's breath catches, needing, wanting, as he reaches up, wrapping his hands in Mikey's messy hair and pulling him close. Mikey comes willingly, easing into the kiss like the last few months never happened and Gerard takes everything that he's given, pliant as Mikey kisses, hot and deep and messy. Spit stringing then snapping between their mouths as Mikey arches up, pulling back momentarily as he fumbles for Gerard's belt, opening it one-handed.

"Okay?"

Gerard nods, back curved as he tries to help, then collapses with a gasp as Mikey manages to worm his hand into place. He wraps his fingers around Gerard's cock, holding on with a grip made familiar with practice and time. Which should be wrong, but isn't, because this is _Mikey_ and nothing about him can ever be wrong.

Gently, Mikey runs his thumb over the head of Gerard's cock, says, "Gee. Let go."

Gerard loosens his grip on Mikey's hair, wiping his greasy palm on the back of the couch. He looks down the length of his body, where Mikey's crawling backwards, gaze intent and cheeks flushed. He stops when he's straddling Gerard's knees.

"I missed you," Mikey says, never looking away as he tugs at Gerard's jeans, working them down until they're tight around his thighs. Gerard feels exposed, looks down at his own body, at pale skin and soft lines, the dark bush of pubic hair surrounding his cock.

It's a contrast of colour, lines, and Mikey takes off his glasses, setting them aside as he folds himself forward and opens his mouth.

It's been a while, enough that the first touch makes Gerard moans deep in his throat. Mikey's using his mouth and tongue in a relentless rhythm, slow at first, then faster, giving Gerard no respite as he curls his fingers in the cushions of the couch, his throat dry as he pants for breath.

They're in sync, in a way that's always been easy. The push and pull between them there to be used, Gerard turning his foot so it's resting against Mikey's, Mikey picking up the pace when Gerard breathes harder, going deeper, his cheeks hollowing, his eyelashes spiked and dark.

"Mikey," Gerard warns, but Mikey doesn't let up. Just sucks harder and Gerard's clutching Mikey's shoulders, hard enough to bruise as he tries not to thrust up and take more than Mikey's willing to give.

Except, Mikey's giving everything, and he takes a moment to pull off, his mouth wet and voice hoarse. "Do it."

The sound goes directly to Gerard's cock and he pushes up his hips, desperate for more, fucking Mikey's mouth and trying to hold on as orgasm builds and then abruptly crashes, Gerard whimpering as he comes down Mikey's throat.

Overwhelmed, Gerard takes a moment to just breathe, more present in the world than he's felt for a while.

"Gee." Mikey's pulled off, and has pushed himself up on his hands and knees. He's squinting without his glasses and he licks over his lips, shaking his head as Gerard reaches out for his belt. "No need."

Gerard looks down and sees the damp patch at Mikey's crotch, the way he smiles slightly, unrepentant as he wiggles so he's wedged between Gerard and the back of the couch. He rests his head against Gerard's, says quietly, "Don't leave me again."

Gerard turns his head and brushes a kiss against Mikey's forehead, wanting to promise but knowing he can't. Instead he says, "I'll try."

He knows it's enough.

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